


The tale of George

by LeviLance



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys in Skirts, Bullying, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:14:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29399607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviLance/pseuds/LeviLance
Summary: George is a student who transferred from Brighton to Florida. He owns a lot of pretty things, and gets picked on for it. Meanwhile, Clay is the school's bully.What happens when the two meet, where gender roles apply in our society. Will George fight for himself or will he accept his fate?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	The tale of George

**Author's Note:**

> I am fairly new to writing fanfictions so please be easy on me. Also this isn't edited so any grammatical mistakes you see, no you didn't.
> 
> This is inspired by A silent voice. It is an anime film if you didn't know.

George wanted to be accepted, but never could. He has been the center of bullying his whole life for being himself. George was a femboy, a cheerleader and a bookworm. The excessive cruel bullying and taunts he endured forced him to transfer to another school, to another country in hopes of starting a new life.

His suffering will end soon and he will be freed from the confines of highschool, he thought as he stood in front of his classroom door. The various chattering of students were heard as he sucked in a deep breath, mentally and physically preparing himself as to what might happen. A repeat of his old life or a life changing scenario.

The grip on the handle tightened as he slammed the door open, immediately the chattering came to a stop and eyes from every student casted upon him. Step by step, he entered the room and towards an empty seat at the front. The silence pursued and the gaze continued, watching the brunet walk across the room.

As he was nearing his seat, a loud whistle interrupted the silence. George immediately whipped his head around to find the source of the noise as his eyes landed on a blond boy. His legs were propped up on the desk and a large smirk is stretched across his face. Emerald eyes began examining every crevice of his outfit. From his white platformed shoes to his white thigh high to his light blue plaid skirt and up to his fluffy green sweater.

"Ahem." The teacher cleared her throat. "Clay, settle down. George, please take a seat and we will start the lesson."

And the torment begins.

\------------

The bell rung signalling it was the end of class. George picked up his bag and started packing his things up. Before he could react, a hand snatched his pen off the desk. This made George look up and was met with the blond boy from before. His smirk was still prominent.

"You seriously like this stuff?"

The pen in Clay's hand was pastel pink and decorated with glitter. He lifted it up to get a closer look.

"Hey! Give it back!" This prompted the brunet to stand up from his seat and reach up. He stood on his toes and leaned against Clay, his fingers barely touching the pen.

Before he could get another inch, the pen was tossed behind George and was caught by a raven haired boy.

"Eww. Clay, what's this? That's disgusting."

George looked back in an instant, and before he could get to it. He watched as his belonging was tossed out of an open window, and disappearing from his sight as it fell.

He quickly rushed towards it and peered out of the window. As expected, it was gone. His classroom was pretty high up and a small object like a pen being dropped from this high is bound to break into pieces.

Laughter pierced his ears as he grit his teeth and balled his fists, scrunching up his skirt in the process. The torment and the bullying, it was happening again. It was as if he was back in his old school. His nightmares repeating itself, finding its way back to torture him once again, making his life a living hell.

George ran past the boys and grabbed his bag. He ignored the sound of his bullies shouting at him and hurried down the hallway recklessly. He needed to get out of there.

He hurried around the corner and looked around frantically before spotting an empty classroom. He swung the door open and closed the door slowly, locking it with a soft click. He swatted his hand around for the light switch and sighed in relief as the light turned on, revealing a small classroom.

Why did this happen again? He just wanted to be himself. He wanted to dress in clothing that girls would wear. He wanted to like the same things that girls liked. Did society not accept him just because he was a little different from the rest of the boys? Every single time he would walk on school grounds, he would get harrassed and pushed around as if he was just a meer doll to be played with.

He let his eyes trail to his bag. He needed his diary, to relieve the pain that is currently bubbling up. He unzipped his bag and dipped his hand, searching for a small notebook. Worries began consuming him as he couldn't find his diary. He tipped his bag upside down as contents slid out of it. Various books began spreading across the floor and not one did it resemble his diary. He pushed his other belongings out of the way and stood up, examining the floor for a small pink book.

It was gone.

Amongst his belongings, not one book stood out to him. He rushed out of the classroom in a hurry and darted back to his classroom. He must've left it there. All his thoughts and feelings were stashed in that notebook. He couldn't bare the thought of another person reading it.

He slammed the door open and frantically looked around for his desk. A book that was supposed to be there, wasn't there. His desk was spotless. He tried to recall if he left it somewhere else but before transferring to this school, a few hours ago, in this classroom was the first time he opened his bag. It was not possible he left it somewhere else.

He was sure that someone took it after he left.

His darkest thoughts weren't so secretive anymore..

\--------------

The following days weren't so different to him.

"Get rid of your sweater, your accessories and your fucking skirt, you look like a freak."

The boys cornered George against his locker, the smaller boy cradling himself as his body shook with intensity. He looked up, through his eyelashes and at the tall blond boy, towering him. Tan hands rested on the locker door behind George as he leaned down. His face inches apart from the shaking brunet.

"Please.. please, let me go.."

His voice was barely audible, only a whisper but from the distance between the two men, Clay would've heard him either way.

"George, was it?" His tone was dark, dropping down a few octaves lower and dripping with malice intentions.

The brunet nodded, his lips parted open to say something but nothing came out, not even a breath. Clay wasn't satisfied, he needed a response. An audible response. He hated people not using their voice to answer his questions, especially people he deemed unworthy of standing on the pedestal; existing only to stay at the bottomless pit. People like him, begging for mercy without a fight.

What a laugh.

"I asked you a question, George." His other hand gripped his chin tightly, making the smaller boy look up at him. Glassy eyes staring back at emerald, looking as if tears threatened to spill from his eyes; threatening to unravel himself and fall deeper into vulnerability.

But that ended there when a punch woke him back to reality, knocking him back and stumbling into his friend's body. It wasn't a hard punch, it was unexpected.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Harsh words dripped from the cheerleader who was embracing George once Clay got off him.

He shrugged and raised his hands in surrender, turning on his shoes and walking away. His friends followed suit. He got his fair share of fun today either way.

\-----------------

Days passed, every hour in school was like hell, and every minute got worse.

Food were thrown at him, hands gripping him in places he never consented to, name-calling, tripping, and worse of all...

Thump

George's elbow hit the ground, making direct contact with the tiled floor. An all-too familiar blond looming over him where he was pushed.

He couldn’t breathe, he was practically hyperventilating now as he desperately shook his head.

"N-no.."

A swing he couldn't avoid clipped him across the cheeks and sending his head smacking into the tiled floor harshly. Immense pain immediately began surging through his head, mixed with the stinging pain from the contact.

A gasp followed.

And another one as a bystander rushed over to George's side.

"You're bleeding! We need to get him to the infirmary room!"

Clay's eyes widened as he watched blood slowly spread around the tiled floor. The smaller male's form was trembling as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He looked weakly back at the blond male and averted his eyes when he was escorted to the infirmary.

"The fuck, Clay? You went too far."

It wasn't his intention to injure the smaller boy.

\------------------

Clay was suspended

He was sent to the principal's office after words of George's assault spread like wild fire. They came to the conclusion of suspending him, extending his suspension time increasingly long.

It was the afternoon, the glow of the orange sunlight seeped through the curtains and into his dusty bedroom that wasn't cleaned often. Earlier, he had a conversation with his parents. Needless to say, it was a merciless conversation which resulted in him locking himself in his room. Though, it did smack some sense into him. The assualts he caused to George, he understood the torture he inflicted on him and he understood his acts weren't justifiable.

He had gone too far

He should've realised this a long time ago but being the school bully for years, he turned a blind eye to all the victims he had inflicted pain to. He used it for his own benefit, he lived off their chronic anguish for his own entertainment.

What a sick bastard, he was.

Slowly, he let his eyes trail to a soft pink notebook, sitting on his desk. He grasped it in his hand and glided his finger across the indents of an initial, 'G.D' written at the center of it. He knew it belonged to George since his initial thought was to blackmail him with it but that changed.

Clay opened the book reluctantly and noticed how neat the writing was. Dates were scribbled at the top of each paragraphs, noting that this wasn't an ordinary notebook but in fact a diary.

It dated all the way back to mid-last year when they were in freshman. He started to read:

_It's been a long journey, I remember being a happy kid. I used to be popular amongst the cheerleaders, I would usually be in the center of attention, I would usually hang out with our cheerleading and soccer team and we would celebrate every win by crashing at one of our houses or going out and eating a nice dinner. But now.. it started to change when I fully indulge myself into dressing and acting like a female. Everyone seemed to smile in my presence but I know it was all an illusion. They didn't accept people who dressed differently, in fact, they despise it. The students, the teachers and even the fucking families were all fake._

_But I turned a blind eye and acted like nothing happened. It was truely a grave mistake._

_It started towards mid second semester when I received a letter from an anonymous person. I didn't think much of it as these tend to be pranks but I was wrong. The letter contained nasty words and slurs that describe the absolute hatred they felt towards me. I couldn't read it anymore and immediately trashed it. It didn't mean much, I told myself and went on with my day. Letters after letters kept piling in as they were all offensive and harrassing contents. The students around me stood five feet away from me and the tables I sat in were usually empty. Whispers were heard as I would catch a glimpse of something horrible:_

_"What does his parents even think of him."_

_"He is so disgusting, why make himself look more revolting."_

_"Can't believe our star cheerleader is him, he's making our school look bad."_

_"I know right, no wonder our school have been trashed on lately."_

_It doesn't affect me, or so I thought. Cliques were formed and I would be the guinea pig. I became the punching bag. I wasn't George, the cheerleader star anymore. I was the nerd and the faggot._

_Then, I thought to myself. What's wrong with me? How did my perfect life; the life that everyone wanted; able to be praised by, had many friends and liked by everyone to the whole school humiliating a British boy whom wanted to be himself._

_I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't live like this. For the first time, I've felt what it was like to reach my breaking point. To reach a whole new stage of despair and vulnerability. I began living off pain. I used to hate it but now I've become accustomed to it. Sliding the blade against my skin helped me dissociate myself from the cruel world we live in and the repeated motion gives me a sense of relief. It soon became a drug, like an addiction where I couldn't stop harming myself and littering scars across my arm. ___

__The last few pages had rips and drops of blood at the edges. It got darker as Clay read on until a certain page had rough and deep indents. The same words littered the page and repeated over and over again in dark pencil lead._ _

__**I want to die.** _ _

__And that was when Clay snapped the book closed and dumped it on his bed then rushed out his door. It was no mistake that George would've fell into the same situation he was in before, or even worse. With the address he dug out previously for blackmail, he inputted it into google maps before running out onto the street and towards the direction to George's house._ _

__\-------------_ _

__Soft tune filled George's ears, wrapping him like soft blanket to soothe his agony. It reminded him of days where he got to be normal; the laughs, the joy, the happiness, the blaring sun. Compared to now, he felt empty. His life became meaningless, remembering the thought of people hating him, the way he dressed, the way he stood, the way he spoke and the way he existed. It numbed him. It doesn't hurt him anymore. The grasp of hope he held onto for so long, slipped out of his fingers like oil spilling onto the rails and him slipping off the edge and falling down into the darkness that dared to consume him, accepting his miserable fate._ _

__The pitter-patter of raindrops hitting his window woke him up, his soulless eyes staring at the sliding doors before him that lead to his balcony and tempting him to open it. But he resisted. How long has he sat there?_ _

__It didn't matter anyway._ _

__The reflection from the sliding doors reflected his current state. His face was slimmer, his hair was messy and greasy, his eye bags darkened and his collar bones showing prominently due to his shirt that hung loosely on his shoulders._ _

__He looks awful._ _

__And the torn up skirt he always wore, sat beside him was torn to shreds by his very hands. The skirt he loved dearly and the skirt that caused his life a living nightmare. If it wasn't for him loving something so unordinary, it wouldn't have came to this. If society was accepting of his interest in skirts, it wouldn't have came to this. If only he was normal like everyone else, it wouldn't have came to this.._ _

__He hated what he had become. He hated the person who stared back at him. He wanted to rip himself apart, dig his nails into his skin and piece himself back into someone that was worth accepting. What he was now, is nothing but a broken doll. Someone who was born to break and bend into other's will. He felt disgusted. He felt beyond broken. He hated how vulnerable he was._ _

__The things that made him happy turned to dust, his mind gradually slipping further and further into the void, unable to hold himself together. He lost himself. He lost everything. The world around him slipped away, taking every minuscule things he loved and leaving him alone, to rot in this dark and unforgivable world with one thought that planted in his head._ _

__I can't take it anymore._ _

__George got up from his sitting position and walked his way to the sliding doors, sliding it open. The sight of the city building stood before his eyes but the only thing that interested him was the rails of his balcony; sitting there, tempting him to perform something so deadly but satisfying. His fingers glided along the surface then gripping it. He lifted himself onto it and stood there as the harsh wind blew through his messy hair._ _

__It was beautiful to be able to stand there so dangerously close to the edge, it was thrilling to think what would happened if he stepped on nothing. Nobody would stop him, nobody would miss him and nobody would remember him. A piece of rubbish like him doesn't deserve to keep walking in the face of this earth._ _

__And so he thought._ _

__A loud bang interrupted his thoughts and a yell of his name as arms wrapped around his slim body and pulling him back onto something warm. A warmth that had a beating heart that seemed to beat rapidly. He didn't understand. He had nothing left, not even a glimmer of hope then why did someone..._ _

__"George..."_ _

__A familiar voice filled his ears. A voice he learnt to hate. The voice that caused his life to turn the way it was. The voice that drove him to stand on this very balcony. Then why.. then why was Clay here._ _

__"I'm sorry.. George, I'm sorry for everything." Clay's voice quivered as he sobbed, letting his tears spill from his eyes to George's shirt._ _

__"I'm sorry for the times I've treated you. I know I shouldn't have. I know what I did doesn't deserve forgiveness and I understand if you don't. The stuff I've said, the nightmares I put you through; you can hit me, you can slap me, you can yell at me, you can do anything you want to me but I want you to listen to me first." Clay raised his head from George's shoulder and looked at him. His hand turned to rest on George's cheek as his thumb caressed the delicate skin._ _

__"From tomorrow on, I promise I'll treat you well. I will hold my head up high and look at people for who they are. I will stop judging people for looking the way they look and acting the way they want to act. I promise you I will do everything properly and try to redeem myself in order to gain your trust little by little. So don't stand on edges anymore and don't let yourself fall victim to these dark and horrible thoughts. You are worth more than you think, you are an epitome of someone who deserves to live and someone who deserves to walk freely without anyone judging for the way you look." Clay watched as George's face morphed into sadness but with a prominent smile on his face as he buried it into Clay's chest._ _

__"You fucking idiot, you are an idiot for someone saying something like this when you ruined someone's life and smashed it into dust." Within the depth of his heart, despite the horrible things Clay had put him through, he wanted to forgive him. He may have been a bad person but whatever changed him, what mattered most is who he was now. George raised his head and wrapped his arms around Clay's neck. He looked into his eyes and sighed, "You may have been the fattest fucking mean person to have walked on the face of this earth but I decided to give you one more chance to redeem yourself- BUT, it doesn't mean I entirely forgive you." He quickly tried to correct himself as he watched Clay's frown turn into a smile._ _

__"Don't look so proud, you are still the meanest idiot." George attempted to wipe the silly grin off Clay's face as Clay happiled rubbed his face against him. If Clay had a tail, it would've wagged repeatedly. George desperately tried to push him off but the taller male didn't budge the slightest._ _

__Who would've thought a day that started full of misery and not an ounce of hope was left is going to end in something so wholesome like Clay showing his affection to George like a dog. An outcome like this was truely a miracle._ _

__An unbelievable miracle._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)


End file.
